Seasons

By Lindsey Fajardo

Winter
You don’t exist
The trees are bare
People hurry by huddling close to each other
As the cold air stings their faces
They shiver
Spring
Water pours down as you’re born
You open you’re eyes and you don’t see anything but umbrellas
Rubber boots splash into dirty puddles of water
You grow by the minute
Beautiful flowers bloom in right below you
Fall
You suddenly come loose from a branch and you fall slowly as the air carries you around landing you softly on the ground
You moan from the pain of kids tramping on you
Soon you see children in…
Halloween masks with bags full of colorful hard candy
Then in a long while…
Summer
You’ve matured
You’re ecstatic, but also agitated from all the heat
You develop a stunning green on you’re fragile skin
And give shade to the visitors of the park
Summer
Home…
Enjoying the giggles of toddlers
Running and biking down the street with friends
They love to play ball
As you glance up, you’re sister is slowly being abducted by the wind
She’s taken away…
She might end up at a gorgeous beach where
Offspring spray water here and there
Enjoying the cool, refreshing water
They’re happy
And so are you
Summer